


Beasts Can't Tell Time

by Ludella



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Aoba/Bejaku, Bad Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ludella/pseuds/Ludella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could hardly even make a noise. All he could do was simply stare at the familiar foreigner before him. His appearance was one he had memorized, haunted him as it resembled an unwanted other, but it couldn’t be that now. Koujaku opened his mouth, a croaked noise crawling from his throat as his usually unbreakable grimace dissolved. "Ao...ba..."</p><p>After so long in hell, miracles became harder to believe when they actually came. Especially when that blessing was still in the body of his devil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beasts Can't Tell Time

Once Koujaku had been broken, it wasn’t necessary for Toue to make any drastic changes to him. After crossing that thin line between man and monster, words became rarer than emotions other than rage, and his eyes never caught faces. He remained that way for whatever time it had been--weeks, months, maybe years? Seeing him every day, it was difficult to identify any physical changes that’d hint at an amount of time that had passed.

It was only when That Aoba lost control of himself to the Original would he notice a difference in the beast. A small spark of light in his eyes only to be washed out by a familiar despair, his mouth trapped in a silent scream of agony before he was growling and snapping at him again. Interesting as it was, That Aoba grew tired of it all too often, wishing that the parasite inside of him would let up already and pay the consequences for the decisions he had made. Whatever time had passed, it was long enough for him to learn by now, hadn’t it?

The Original had control of their body for too long to even be remotely fair. For someone whose body was home to so many different personalities, he was rather selfish when it came to sharing or even _acknowledging_ their existence. Now that he had lost, it was the first chance That Aoba had to live predominantly. Why shouldn’t he be going out of his way to take it? The life he’d won as a result of the Original’s mistakes was much more fun than all he had seen through his eyes before, plain and simple. Not to mention that This Koujaku--he really loved him, with all of his heart. The Original should know the extent They All went through for the importance and power of love.

That Aoba started gaining hope when the pest began showing up much less frequently. What had been trying to get a word in everyday dissolved into a word each week, to a sentence every month. After a couple of months had passed, there seemed to be nothing at all. It did nothing but delight the New Aoba to feel the despair of another rising inside him, an emotion he hadn’t quite experienced himself in the perfect world Toue had constructed for him. It was kind of thrilling, and if he had known it before, he’d have done more to provoke even worse emotions from him.

“Koujaku,” the Improved Aoba cooed upon entering the cell, immediately met with a characteristic snarl and the rattling of chains as the canine-like human tried lunging at him. He giggled with glee. “You’re eager today--I’m glad to see you too!” He was always glad to see him, no matter how often that they met. It only made sense for him to say so aloud and was actually one of the more considerate parts about him. In this way, it was nearly as if he was acknowledging Koujaku could no longer keep track of time.

Every day of every week of every month, the New Aoba spent a good deal of his day down in the lowest parts of the tower with his favorite thing. They’d play for hours, stopping only when That Aoba inevitably lost consciousness and had to leave before he was eaten alive (even though they were feeding Koujaku so well!). It was rather remarkable how far they’d come, to the point where he hardly remembered what he used to look like before the Original tore his head to pieces. A man with different colored hair, a soft face, calm composure--he supposed he could vaguely put the characteristics together from the Original’s memory.

But That Aoba didn’t care to sort through the other’s mind too much, both in fear of being taken over and plain disgust for what laid there. Those feelings he had held and attached to were the only words that served proof of Koujaku’s previous life, they were truly repulsive. Could it even be called love? As if it could compare to the love the Better Aoba held for him now.

The Greater Aoba crawled closer to him, grin spreading at how the man drenched in red thrashed about at the sight of him. It was only fun when Koujaku was excited too, and thankfully, Koujaku was easy to rile up--all he had to do was touch his face. As soon as he did, his hand was nearly bitten off with a ferocious roar. "C'mon, babe, right off the bat? I know you're happy to see me and all, but you should try to wait a li--"

That Aoba pulled away before he could finish, hands flying to his ears as a sudden, sharp pain pierced his head. He had just gotten down here and was already having issues, and they weren't even caused by his pet! Unexpected pain was always the worst.

“Shut up-- _both of you_!” he shouted as Koujaku growled fiercely, chains clinking noisily as he made to attack the Gross Aoba while his guard was down. With little restraint, he slapped the monstrous man away only to double over in his own agony, hands returning to their place over his head. The sensation alone was familiar--the intensity, however, was not. “Get away, stop it, you brat!” he yelled out, voice cracking in the middle as he interrupted himself with another cry of pain. The searing, hot red flames taking over his mind were almost too much to bear, nearly as if the building had caught fire all just to flush him out.

And as soon as the fit started, it stopped.

Koujaku didn’t cease struggling even as the man stopped moving, maybe even more so now with the thought that he had finally dropped dead. Yet the disheveled mass of white on the floor remained still for what may have been hours or minutes (keeping time was something neither of them were too good at) before his fingers twitched. Koujaku drew a low rumble from his throat as the other slowly sat up, stopping immediately once he caught sight of his expression.

“Koujaku…?”

He could hardly even make a noise. All he could do was simply stare at the familiar foreigner before him. His appearance was one he had memorized, haunted him as it resembled an unwanted other, but it couldn’t be that now; Koujaku opened his mouth, a croaked noise crawling from his throat as his usually unbreakable grimace dissolved.

As the person there lifted their head, Koujaku could acknowledge the drastic change in expression, eyes wide, mouth dry and agape. His enhanced, animalistic senses picked up the hitch in his breathing, and if his sight had been as advanced, he’d be able to see the flicker of a million different thoughts flash through his eyes at once. In a moment, it all disappeared, and his expression returned to one of forced stoicism. The white figure continued to move once he was up, slowly crawling towards him with an expression that seemed could cry at any moment.

“A… A…”

A pale, shaky hand rose when he was close enough, cautiously reaching out towards him. By instinct Koujaku made a move to bite him, though he managed to stop himself halfway, willing to wait and see what the other was planning to do now. The moment his fingertips brushed his cheek, Koujaku knew immediately.

“ _Ao_ … ba.”

Aoba was being careful not to make any sudden movements. It took him a while just to press his hand completely against the side of his face, and even more to bring it up and back in a soothing motion. His face hardly moved while watching Koujaku’s reaction, consistently frowning like a child looking upon a glass he’d accidentally broken. Lethargically, Koujaku leaned his cheek into the hand on him, mouth beginning to dry from hanging open so long and the muscles around his face aching from being so stiff.

It was Aoba.

“I’m sorry that it took so long, Koujaku,” he heard him eventually say in a quiet voice, scooting closer to him once he was sure he wouldn’t be hurt intentionally. In response, Koujaku merely groaned while continuing to rub his cheek into his hand. Like a dog greeting his master after so many years. Aoba’s face twisted in pain. “To overcome him, I-I had to wait until I’d gained enough strength.”

Real Aoba.

His other hand came up to hold the opposite side of his face. The touch was far different from when the Other Aoba was here. He didn’t loom over him like a toy, instead lowering himself to come eye to eye with Koujaku as best as he could. The feeling of… equality, almost, was something strange. Foreign, yet also nostalgic. “This is… my fault. Koujaku, I’ll never expect your forgiveness for this. I’m the one who did this to you, and I--”

 _His_ Aoba.

“I’m sorry.”

He remembered having heard the same words before, long ago. It’d been back when he was still in this prison, but far enough that he could remember it having been some time ago. Koujaku wished he could find the words to speak, wished that, like Aoba, he could simply switch between two selves so swiftly. There was quite the difference from having a monster inside of you and being one.

“Ao--ba… Aoba,” Koujaku repeated to the best of his abilities, able to see through the red enough to study the face that was only Aoba’s. Even though Koujaku had become _this_ so long ago, old parts of himself were slowly rising back to the surface all at once. He hissed while struggling against his restraints once again, trying to get as close as he could to the clean white that’d never been so comforting in all his time here.

Each time he repeated his name, Aoba’s face contorted in increasing agony for a reason Koujaku couldn’t hope to place. Was he upset to be here, to see Koujaku like this? For the first time since he had turned, he nearly felt ashamed for the state he was in--felt emotions he hadn’t even hoped would return to him. Now that they were here, he wasn’t so sure that he wanted them. But if this is what came with seeing Aoba again, it was worth it.

“I left you here for so long, I’m sorry, _I’m_ _sorry_ , Koujaku,” Aoba continued, as if it were the only words his mouth could form. From what Koujaku could remember, he had never been this profuse in his apologizing before. But they were under different circumstances now, weren’t they? Trying to speak any more than just his name, a cracked croak wretched itself from Koujaku’s throat, mouth spreading into different shapes in a feeble attempt at words.

“...Aoba.” He wasn’t getting very far with this at all. Still, the contents of his words didn’t matter, so long as the feeling got across. The waiting, the guilt, the sincere and overwhelming emotion he couldn’t even define that came now with the new look on his previous captor’s face. It was difficult to break the habit of constant rage that he had kept for all this time, trying to restrain himself as best as he could from snapping at Aoba when his hand moved down to his shoulder where pink flowers bloomed brilliantly. His touch was more delicate there, and he almost immediately lifted his hand back up to his cheek when Koujaku growled at the sensation over his tattoos.

They stayed like that for a while, Aoba holding Koujaku's face and muttering words he couldn't hear despite how he strained to, and Koujaku doing what he could to try and break the restraints holding him back from touching, from feeling, to reaching out and being able to hold because it was Aoba, _Aoba_. It was the most comfort he'd had in years, even before all of this chaos happened, and by no circumstances did he want to let it go any time soon. Aoba seemed to be thinking similarly as he refuse to let go or loosen his grip on the mess that he had made, though maybe only because it was his fault.

"As soon as I can," he suddenly started, moving towards Koujaku with his arms around him in a strange sort of embrace he couldn't return, "I'll return to rescue you. I'm not sure how I'll do it exactly, but I have had thoughts about it, and--it's possible. It’s possible..."

For a moment he assumed that Koujaku simply hadn’t heard or understood him, seeing as the beast of a man just continued to struggle in his embrace. In reality, there was a good chance he was hardly understanding (maybe even _hearing_ ) anything Aoba was saying at all. He wouldn’t be surprised if Koujaku could only recognize his voice at this point, having thrown the rest of communication besides that aside.

But it wouldn’t do. Finally, Aoba reached farther down his back, hand quickly finding Koujaku’s shackled ones and grabbing at them tightly. The other immediately thrashed about much more in response, snarling at the man trying to hold him and bringing back uncomfortably fond sensations. “Koujaku!” he gasped in surprise more than anything, only to have his movements stop as soon as the name left his mouth. That voice was even more familiar than the touch--but it was hopeful enough to cling to.

Aoba tightened his hold on the other’s fingers when he was sure that he wouldn’t fight back again, trying to speak, whisper, and _hush, Koujaku, just hush_ the entire time to keep him calm. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but nothing like...this.

“Like I said,” he tried to continue, head in Koujaku’s neck, “I’m going to try to make things right… eventually.”

And for a moment, already calming, Koujaku felt he could nearly understand what he was saying. He stopped groaning enough to listen more clearly to his voice, this time trying to actually comprehend the lovely sounding words he was saying. Aoba’s voice was more important than sound alone, after all.

“I know that it’s all my fault, but still, I’m going to at least fix this situation; I swear to you.”

The Aoba from before and the real Aoba really spoke so differently, was the first thing that he could tell. Every time Aoba stopped himself or trailed off a bit on a different thought, it was all so strange, seeing as other had spoken everything so clearly without faltering. He couldn’t help but be relieved for it. His nervousness, his quirks, his pauses and audible breathing--it was all so important.

“Please, wait for me.”

Koujaku’s struggling halted for a moment as Aoba began to pull himself away, only to continue rattling his chains when he realized the other was trying to leave his embrace. It had hardly been any time at all--he hadn’t gotten to _see_ _Aoba_ at all! This was hardly enough for all he had gone through, and it would only be enough when he had him completely. He snarled loudly and snapped his mouth, only to earn a pitiful glance.

“I promise I won’t leave you here, Koujaku. Hold out a while longer.”

If he were completely to his senses, he would have been able to tell that the words he spoke had been clearly rehearsed and thought out before being spoken. Even so they still wavered, as if Aoba was unsure in the basic content of what he was saying in the first place. As he stood, Koujaku jumped hot on his heels, wrestling with himself to try and break the restraints holding him back because Aoba was leaving. Aoba was leaving.

“Ba--Aoba!” the beast roared, fangs chattering as they clanked together. “ _Aoba_!”

Aoba was already walking away, visibly trying to ignore the man behind him. All this time there were only two parts of the old Koujaku that persisted on remaining within the monster snarling behind him now, only those remnants of the man he used to be; his love for Aoba and his hope. Those had both held out for this long, hadn’t they? It was all Aoba could put his trust in now while opening the cell door.

He didn’t want to do this.

“Koujaku… I’m sorry.”

He shook. Silencing himself, Koujaku watched in vain as Aoba suddenly grasped at his head, letting out a pained groan while propping himself up against the steel bars of the cage. Unlike the scene from earlier, Aoba did not fight the force overcoming him as actively as the Other had before. In a way, his body seemed to fall almost… in resign. In just that moment, Koujaku had to wonder whether or not he’d be fine with Aoba dying like this before the other was right back up on his own two feet.

He decided that yes, perhaps it was better for Aoba to have died then instead.

“That was gross, wasn’t it, Koujaku?”

The cell was cold, and the only sound he could hear was the echo of that man's laughter. He could practically feel the warmth of his body melting out of his skin, unable to even growl or lunge towards him. A lost chance would still be lost.

He was alone again in a matter of seconds, as the entire event took place over a span of a couple of minutes. The foreign man hummed gleefully to himself for having regained control of his body and left without another word. He must have been making plans on how to make up for such an error on his part, how to reassert control of the situation. To prevent such things from happening again.

Koujaku wished for him to stay a little longer. He hoped that he would leave as soon as possible. He wanted to lash out, bite and claw until he really was nothing more than a broken mess. He desired to reach for his hand again. The thirst he’d had for language a few minutes ago failed him once again, disappointing as there would be no other time he’d be so motivated to relearn communication. Now, a mere scream would not be able to express anything rightfully--no sound would.

Koujaku's stomach churned, having regained enough of himself for the moment to make one last realization. Growling and shaking he thrashed about, not even caring how his wrists bled from the rough treatment of the shackles caging him. If only he could pull harder--if only the tattoos on his arms didn't agonize him so.

If Aoba had taken this long to win control for a few minutes, how long would he have to wait for him to return next time?


End file.
